Mythical Reality
by Talia Fisher
Summary: Harry, Hermione and Ron, and many other characters are swept into a love plot that takes them to Italy, involves a magic watch, and brings up betrayal, desperation, but ultimately, love.
1. Hermione and the Dance

1 - Hermione and The Dance

It was the fifth year for Harry, Ron and Hermione, and they were all fifteen. Hermione had, for a few weeks now, been feeling anxious. Hermione was taking a few more subjects than Ron and Harry, and so she was not with them in every lesson. Hermione was beginning to realize that she was not the most popular girl in the school. It was not like she was an outcast, she wasn't the kind of person who found themselves constantly sitting by themselves in lessons, the sort who had to beg people to be their partner or in their group in a practical class. But then again, she was hardly surrounded by friends. It was starting to sink in to Hermione, that she was practically the only girl who had two boys for best friends. This worried her, in a way that it never had done before. Hermione had a few friends in some classes, though they were more like acquaintances than people she could tell her deepest secrets to. They were almost for convenience, people to sit next to, when she didn't have Harry or Ron. For instance, in Arithmancy, she sat next to Veronica Kendall, who was in Ravenclaw, and in Muggle Studies, a shy girl named Sara Peasely. They were both very studious, and quite boring, if the truth be told. A sudden thought hit Hermione. Do people see _me _like that? she wondered desperately. Am I as annoyingly brainy as they are? She brushed the thought away crossly, but it stayed at the back of her mind, niggling at her confidence.

It was Arithmancy that Hermione was heading for now. She walked briskly down the corridor to the correct room, her plain black robe flapping around her ankles. I have to get this silly popularity complex off my mind, she scolded herself in thought, and gratefully slid into her seat in Arithmancy, putting her bag down on the floor. She was pleased to have a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and get her homework in order. Hermione told herself brusquely; now pay attention and stop thinking about it. She was glad it was Arithmancy, it was clever, and it obeyed the rules, just how Hermione liked things. She could get her head down and work. However, Hermione had not reckoned on one factor. 

"Hi Hermione! How did you find the homework, I thought it was all easy except number three, I bet you could do it easily though, right? I can't wait for the Arithmancy test next week, I was studying for it all of Sunday, I really like tests, I don't understand why people don't like them, do you? I wish that everyone enjoyed school as much as me and you do, then they'd be as happy as us, don't you think? I think that…."

Veronica carried on babbling, not waiting for any response from Hermione, but she had stopped listening. Hermione groaned silently, and put her head down on the desk.

That lunchtime, when Arithmancy had finally finished, Hermione leapt up from her seat, and rushed off to the Great Hall, to meet Harry and Ron, hoping that Veronica would not catch up with her. She sat down with them, and as they piled their plates with food for lunch, Hermione happened to glance down the table. At the other end sat a group of girls. They were a mixture of all four houses, and called themselves the Bewitched Jewels. This was nothing new; they always sat at the end of the table. But Hermione seemed to take them in, as if for the first time. The Jewels had formed at the beginning of that year, and were mostly from Hermione's year, apart from a few Fourth years. They were mainly blonde, and all were slim, tall and gorgeous. They had flocks of boys around them at all times, and were incredibly popular. To become a Jewel was something most girls dreamed of. It meant, to use the Jewels' own phrase; you were la crème de la crème. Hermione knew in her heart of hearts that they were all stuck up snobbish girls, with little brains, and even less personality, with one-track minds for boys, boys, boys. But she still longed to be like them. It went against everything she had always believed in. So maybe I'm changing, thought Hermione angrily, trying to fight hot tears forming in her eyes.

"What's up Hermione?" said Ron loudly, well meaning as always, but yet again putting his foot in his mouth. He spoke so loudly everyone in the vicinity turned to look at Hermione. She put her head down, so her hair fell over her face, hiding her blush, and quietly scurried out of the Great Hall, and away to the library.

"What did I say?" said Ron, oblivious. Harry groaned, and kicked his foot under the table.

Harry knew exactly where Hermione would be, of course. He headed straight up the spiral staircase to the library. 

When Hermione had got there, she had sat down in the reading section, and pulled a random book off a shelf. She leafed through it, so as not to attract the attention of Madame Pince, the ferocious librarian, who was not afraid to use her right to throw people out. The last thing Hermione wanted was to go back to the Gryffindor common room, and face Ron and Harry. But as if on cue, Harry appeared by her shoulder. He sat down the in the chair next to her. "Hi," he started softly. "What's wrong Hermione? Is there someone bothering you?" 

Hermione knew he could never understand. "I'm fine," she said gruffly, immersing herself in the book. Harry leaned over, and picked the book out of her grasp. 

"Hermione? You're interested in 'The Bewitching Art of Quidditch'?" Harry said, a touch of laughter in his voice. "You hate Quidditch!" However, this was the wrong thing to say. Hermione stifled a sob, and ran from the library. Why can't people just leave me alone?" she thought desperately, letting the tears flow freely down her cheeks. Harry sat, baffled, in the library. 

It was early evening. Hermione was sitting in her room at Hogwarts, finishing off her weekend homework, even though it was only Friday night. She had not spoken to either Harry or Ron since that afternoon. Three of the girls in her dorm were getting ready for a party at another wizarding school, where they would meet their boyfriends. Something made Hermione look up from her Potions essay, and she watched Erina, Tassia, and Luna putting the final touches to their make-up. Tassia stepped out of her designer skirt and top, and stood in her underwear, trying to decide which dress to wear. In her underwear, it was even more plainly obvious how perfect she was. Medium height, she still had amazingly long legs, and an almost impossibly flat stomach and slender waist, and perfectly rounded hips. Her hourglass figure was immaculate. She had bought three dresses that she liked, because she couldn't choose the nicest. Hermione was about to turn back to her work in disgust, but the sight of Tassia swinging her short pixie-like bob of silver blonde hair, and slipping her figure into a tight revealing scarlet and silver dress, caught her attention for a minute longer. Hermione felt a strange longing in her heart. The 3 girls always went out on Friday and Saturday night, they were the sort who had had boyfriends since the first year, who had looks and bodies to die for, crowds of friends and heaps of confidence. Of course, they were all members of the Bewitched Jewels. Hermione thought of herself- plain, studious, boring. She was still in her loose black school robe; she hadn't bothered changing since lessons ended several hours ago. Her hair was long, she couldn't remember when she had last had it cut, she just hacked off an inch every few months herself. As a result, the ends were uneven, and the colour was dull brown, with no shine. This was not to say that it was dirty- as with everything, Hermione prided herself on personal hygiene, she had a shower in the morning, and a bath at night, and washed her hair thoroughly three times a week. She kept her nails cut short, it was more practical, she reassured herself, and her clothes amounted to school robes, and some plain baggy jumpers, jeans and tee-shirts she had had for years. 

Appearance had never mattered to Hermione before, she didn't want friends who judged her on her on what she looked like, and who wanted a boyfriend anyway? They only caused heartache, and she had no time, schoolwork was far more important than a silly teenage crush.

At least, that's what she had always felt - until now. 

The next day, Hermione was wearing a plain blue top; it was clean and smart, carefully ironed, but loose and unflattering. As though suddenly seeing through different eyes, she saw how all the girls wore fashionable clothes, fitted, tight tops and short skirts, baggy jeans or tailored trousers. Hermione felt self-conscious of her hair- it was carefully scraped back into a low ponytail, with a plain black hair-band. Everyone had loose hair, either long and layered or short in the latest style.

The rest of the day she was very quiet, and Harry noticed, but felt it was better not to say anything. But that night, almost in psyche with each other, they both started to feel guilty, and Hermione went into Harry and Ron's dorm room. Harry looked up. 

"Hermione, I'm so sorry…"

"Harry, I feel terrible…"

They both spoke at the same time, and faltered. Then Harry grinned, and Hermione started to giggle. They both started to laugh, and Hermione bounced into Harry's arms. "Let's forget it ever happened?" suggested Harry, and squeezed Hermione in a hug as she agreed. 

Hermione was in a good mood due to this for the whole of the rest of the week. But she was still unhappy about her appearance and her unpopularity with the other girls.

By next Friday, Hermione had plucked up the courage to ask Lavender Brown- a Gryffindor girl in her year, for some advice. But Lavender, who could never stop at giving advice, had to go the whole distance.

"Come with me, she said cryptically, and Hermione followed her, slightly bemused, into Lavender's dorm room, which was luckily empty. 

"Let's do a makeover!!" she said excitedly.

Hermione stared at her in horror for a split second, and then said, "Oh…. that's really very kind…but I don't think…well…."

She stopped, for once flailing for the best way to express herself. Eventually Lavender managed to persuade her, and Hermione left for her room later, feeling better, but also apprehensive. She and Lavender agreed to meet early evening, the next day. Incidentally, the next evening was also the Hogwart's ball, when all the students brought a boyfriend or girlfriend with them, either someone from another wizarding school, or another Hogwart's pupil. Lavender was determined to make Hermione look gorgeous in time for it. Hermione had no plans to go, and had no idea that Lavender was going to make her. She slipped into sleep in blissful ignorance. 

Also that night, Harry and Ron were in their dorm, still awake well into the night. The others were dreaming in their room, Seamus occasionally letting out snores. 

Harry was going to the ball the next day; with Cho Chang, his long-term girlfriend. They had been going out over a year. Ron, however, was not. 

"You're really lucky Harry," he moaned in the darkness. "No girl will ever want to go out with me. Look at this hair! And my dress-robe… well." He pulled idly at his flame red mop, to show Harry, forgetting they couldn't see each other in the pale moonlight. But Harry understood.

"Stop worrying, Ron. I'm sure there's a girl right under you're nose who would be great for you."

Harry had no idea his words, truthfully made-up on the spot to comfort Ron, could come true, so soon.

*

At seven the next evening, Hermione walked unsteadily from Lavender's room, and rushed to her own room, and quickly locked the door. She moved slowly to face the full-length mirror, and what she saw brought prickles of tears to her eyes. Lavender had washed Hermione's hair with a shampoo for shine, and had subtly highlighted it blonde, so her hair shone in the light, and looked less mud brown, than sun-kissed gold. It had the texture of spun silk, and the colour of caramel, cinnamon, and demerara sugar. She then trimmed off two inches of hair, and feathered the front, so that the hair framed Hermione's heart shaped face. She brushed the previously blocky fringe into two, parting it along with the rest of Hermione's centre parting. Her fringe now carried on with the rest of the feathering at the front, and was far more flattering. Lavender blow dried the hair straight, and clipped a tiny blue flower into the side of Hermione's hair. Lavender had expertly applied concealer to her face, to even out the skin tone, and brushed rose pink blusher onto the apples of her cheeks. Subtle silver-blue eyeshadow had been put on her eyelids, and a touch of pale pink lip-gloss finished the look. 

She ran back to Lavender's room, and threw her arms around the girl. "This is _fantastic_! I can't believe it…!"

Lavender pushed her off though. "Stoppit! You RUIN your hair! All my hard work!"

"Now then," she continued. You have to go to the ball tonight, do you have anything to wear? Have you…"

Hermione looked taken aback. "I can't go to the ball!" she exclaimed. "I've got nothing to wear, no idea how to dance… No one would want to… go with me" she muttered humbly.

"Firstly, I have plenty of dresses you can borrow. Secondly, everyone can dance, it just comes naturally. Thirdly, there is someone who wants to take you to the ball." Lavender broke off, and turned and pointed to the doorway. There stood Ron, looking a mite uncomfortable in black tie, with Harry and Cho Chang standing a little distance away. 

Ron cleared his throat, and looked up and down Hermione. "You look…so different Hermione. I would love it if you would accompany me to the ball." he said, with prompting from Harry.

Hermione grinned. "Let me get dressed first!" she said.

*

Hermione was browsing through Lavender's extensive wardrobe. "Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked for the millionth time. "All these robes are so pretty, I'd feel odd borrowing one…"

"Hermione," said Lavender, "That's what friends are for."

She eventually chose a plain purple robe. Putting on some of Lavender's strappy black shoes, with high heels, she said;

"What do you think?" doing a twirl, in front of the mirror.

Lavender was putting the finishing touches to her make-up, and tapped a clip in her hair, so that the silver dragonfly came alive, and it's iridescent wings fluttered in her dark hair. She turned and looked critically at Hermione. 

"Look, that's practically daywear! Have you never been to a ball before?!" she said the last part jokily, and saw in amazement, as Hermione shook her head shamefully. 

"Right." Lavender faltered, and stepped towards her wardrobe. She flicked through, and pulled out a deep cherry pink gown made of silk taffeta. It was full-length, and had medieval-style sleeves. The skirt of the robe flared out, and the waist was nipped in, purposefully made to show off the figure. Hermione backed away instinctively. 

"I…I can't wear that, it's just not me, I'm afraid." But Lavender forced her to try it on, and it was as though the dress had been designed for Hermione. The colour, the shape, the style, everything was perfect. 

"You look fabulous!" said Lavender, almost reverently. "I wish I looked that good in it!"

Hermione stepped out into the hall between the dorms, slightly shakily from the high heels. Lavender tripped ahead of her, and ran to the boy's dorm. "Ron!" she called to him. "You date is ready for you now!"

Ron stepped out, and looked around until he spotted Hermione. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. For once, Ron was speechless. 

The ball started at eight thirty, and at that time, Ron and Hermione, and Harry and Cho, descended the stairs to the Great Hall, which had been temporarily turned into a dance floor, beautifully decorated with banners and flowers, and enchanted lanterns that flashed different colours. The ceiling showed a starry night, and there were silver and gold streamers linked across the hall. It looked spectacular. Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins were in charge of the music, something that Professor McGonagall had not been too sure about, but for once, they weren't acting up. 

Cho was wearing a slimline ankle length midnight blue robe, and a tiara of dark blue jewels. Hermione looked around, and saw that she would have been underdressed in the purple cotton robe. Se felt relieved that she was in the beautiful red robe.

The teachers had tactfully removed themselves for the evening, though under the ever-worrying eye of Professor McGonagall, a button had been installed to press if there was an accident, to call the teachers.

Hermione and Ron started to slow dance. Lavender had been right, it did come naturally. You swayed to the beat, and looked elegant. Hermione found herself looking quite at home, and felt incredulous. 

"You look… beautiful, Hermione," said Ron.

Hermione blushed. "You look pretty good yourself!" she said, glancing around. All the boys were wearing black tie –dark coloured robes with starched white shirts underneath. The girls were a blaze of different colours; all the different colours under the sun were there, in the many dress-robes. Lavender passed by with her date, on the way to get a drink from the punchbowl, and winked at Hermione. She finally felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. Lavender liked her, she realised suddenly, recalling Lavender's words earlier that evening. _"That's what friends are for…"_

Hermione felt a sudden inner glow. She smiled at Ron, and he smiled back.

Later, as the evening was drawing to a close, Ron said, "You look so lovely tonight, Hermione. My Lady in Red."

And before Hermione could react, he bent down and kissed her softly on the lips. Hermione walked back to her dorm on winged feet. 


	2. A New Subject

2 - A New Subject

At the end of the fourth year, some of the pupils at Hogwarts had been complaining to their respective teachers, that they were finding their subjects boring. Many students had a particular subject that they hated – Harry and Ron's was Potions, but as that was a core subject, there was nothing they could do. But other people wanted to give up one of the extra subjects, Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, Herbology etc. This had troubled Dumbledore; he hated to see his pupils unhappy, and strove to do something about it. Over the summer, he researched new subjects, and contacted other headmasters of other magical schools. Some had already branched out of the traditional subjects, and it was this that Dumbledore was particularly interested in. He spoke to a close friend of his, who was headmaster at Stargazer Wizarding Academy in Glasgow. Professor Pirbright, one of the countries leading teachers, was not afraid to try new things. He told Dumbledore what the most successful new subjects were at his school.

And so it was, that when all the pupils returned for a new school year, Dumbledore called a school meeting, for all teachers and pupils. He had said that all student were allowed to give up one non-core subject – if they wished, and start learning a new and exciting subject, previously only taught in Muggle schools; Classics. 

There was a buzz of chatter, and Hermione practically leapt out of her seat with excitement. 

"Hermione," said Ron tentatively, "You obviously know what all this is about - what the hell is Classics?"

Hermione looked at him with a mixture of shock and amusement. She then launched into a long speech. "The study of classics is learning of the ancient civilizations. It will involve learning Latin and Greek, and we will discover how people lived in Italy, especially Rome and Pompeii, and Greece. We might also find out about the ancient Britons. Egypt will come into it a lot. It'll be really fascinating, the ancient people were simply incredible…" Hermione was carrying on, but Ron and Harry had stopped listening.

Dumbledore held up his hands for silence. "I would like to remind you that this is an _optional _course. You may of course carry on with exactly the same subjects as before. But I'd like you to remember that this is a _great _opportunity-"

Ron glanced at Hermione, so was hanging on to every word. 

"We are one of the first wizarding schools in the country to try this, and best of all, we have one of the world's leading experts of language and Classics, to teach you. Please give a warm welcome to Professor Peacock."

Everyone turned to where Dumbledore was pointing, and saw a woman climbing onto the stage in the hall, to join the headmaster.

Professor Peacock was no more than 5 foot 4; she was thin, with short black hair, in a fashionable pixie style. In fact, her whole appearance resembled a pixie. She was short and light, and had sharp pretty features. Although she must have been in her forties, Professor Peacock had youthful exuberance, and was wearing fashionable clothes instead of the traditional teacher's robes. She smiled at the assembled pupils, and the smile lit up her whole face. Even Ron, who was always cynical about teachers - "If they're nice people, then why did they become teachers?", was secretly thinking that she looked kind.

That evening, in the Gryffindor common room, everyone was talking about Classics.

"Well I'm not taking it," announced Dean Thomas. "I don't need _more _work."

"But that's the whole point Dean," argued Hermione, "you can give up one of your non-core subjects, weren't you listening?"

Dean grunted by way of a reply.

Hermione carried on regardless. "Well, I've decided, I'm giving up Muggle Studies. You two were right, I _do _know all about Muggles, because my parents are ones. I don't need to study it. When I went to a Muggle school, I studied Classics, and it was fantastic! I loved it, and I really recommend it to all of you."

Nobody took this recommendation very seriously however, because Hermione loved _all _school subjects.

Neville suddenly piped up; "I went to a Muggle school before I came to Hogwarts, and I never studied Classics."

"Which school?"

"Morden Comprehensive."

Hermione half-grinned to herself. "No wonder," she said. "Classics is hardly taught in _any _Muggle schools anymore, let alone _comprehensives_ - it's dying out. I went to a private school - you know? Fee-paying? I went to Wimbledon High Junior School," she said proudly. Hermione then added unnecessarily, "You get a much better education at a private, you know." 

"Posh cow," said Neville under his breath, which luckily Hermione didn't hear. 

Ron and the Weasley twins were in fits of laughter, and Harry, worried in case it escalated into a fight, brought the subject hurriedly back to Professor Peacock. 

"So who's going to join up for Classics?" he asked everyone.

"I am!" said Hermione and Ginny simultaneously. They smiled at each other, and wandered off, Ginny asking Hermione rapid questions about Classics.

"I think we should do it, Ron," suggested Harry. "We're doing less subjects than Hermione, we could do an extra subject."

"More work?" Ron frowned. "I don't think so Harry."

A few days passed. Harry wrote his name down on the list, along with Hermione, Ginny, the twins, and most of their year in fact. He too, was worried about the extra work, but Classics sounded great, besides, his long-term girlfriend Cho Chang was doing it too. He was sad that Ron was not taking it though; they were best friends, after all.

Ron was in his dorm room. Hermione had given him her Classics books to look at. Despite Ron's automatic hate for school in general, he couldn't help thinking that it looked quite interesting. He had always had a sneaking liking for all things to do with the Ancient Egyptians. Ron suddenly jumped up from his four-poster bed, and grabbed a quill from his desk. 

He jogged down the stairs, and found the brand new Classic's notice board in the corridor. He wrote a scrawly signature in purple ink on the list, and stood back from it, satisfied.

A few weeks later everything had been arranged. The timetable had been re-arranged, a spare classroom had been converted, and the robes ordered for Professor Peacock had arrived. First thing Tuesday morning, everyone shuffled into the room. 

The teacher was standing by the front desks. 

"Come in, sit down," she ushered cheerfully, and handed Neville a stack of mint green textbooks to hand out.

That first lesson, they learnt the basics of Latin. Hermione of course, had remembered it all, but everyone else was having fun with the new pronunciation.

The next lesson, they did some background work, and learnt about the people of Pompeii.

Professor Peacock, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, wads obviously in her element. With some teachers it was sadly all too clear how much they disliked teaching. Professor Peacock not only visibly loved teaching, but she also adored her subject. She was so vibrant, and full of energy that it was hard not to be interested. Not a person regretted signing up.

"Pompeii was an ancient city of Italy, built a few miles south of Mount Vesuvius, between Herculaneum and Stabiae. The city was founded about 600 BC by the Oscans, who were later conquered by the Samnites. Under the dictator Lucius Cornelius Sulla it became a Roman colony in 80 BC and later a favorite resort for wealthy Romans, reaching a population of about 20,000 at the beginning of the Christian era. It was also a place of considerable trade and was the port town of Nola and other inland cities of the fertile valley of the Sarnus. The city was much damaged by an earthquake in AD 63 and was completely demolished in AD 79 by an eruption of Vesuvius that overwhelmed the towns of Pompeii, Herculaneum, and Stabiae. The eruption also changed the course of the Sarnus and raised the sea beach, placing the river and the sea at a considerable distance from the ruined city and obscuring the original site.

"For more than 1500 years Pompeii lay undisturbed beneath heaps of ashes and cinders, and not until 1748 were excavations undertaken. New discoveries continued to be made throughout the 19th century and into the 20th. Some of the ruins were badly damaged by air raids during World War II and had to be restored. Additional excavations are continuously made. More than one-fourth of the city remains to be excavated, and much of this area lies beneath piles of earth heaped up from earlier excavations.

"Among the most significant aspects of the discoveries at Pompeii is the remarkable degree of preservation of the ancient objects. The showers of wet ashes and cinders that accompanied the eruption formed a hermetic seal about the town, preserving many public structures, temples, theaters, baths, shops, and private dwellings. 

"Most of the inhabitants escaped the eruption, carrying with them their possessions that they could carry. After the eruption they tunneled into and around the houses and public buildings, and carried off almost everything of value, even to the extent of stripping marble slabs from the buildings. For this reason few objects of great value, in a sense of money that is, have been discovered at Pompeii. Most of the movable objects that were found, and some of the best-executed wall paintings and floor mosaics, have been removed to the National Museum in Naples. Taken together, the buildings and objects provide a remarkably realistic and complete picture of life in an Italian provincial city of the 1st century AD. The surviving edifices, representing a transition from the pure Greek style to the building methods of the Roman Empire, have been especially important for the study of Roman architecture."

Professor Peacock passed around some colour photos of Pompeii, including a picture of some of the preserved bodies.

"It's fascinating, isn't it?" said Harry. 

Hermione nodded in agreement. "It would be so fantastic to go and see for ourselves," she said dreamily.

Professor Peacock happened to be passing by, right as Hermione spoke, and she heard what she had said.

"Funny you should say that Hermione," she smiled, and spoke to the whole class.

"I'm glad you've enjoyed learning about the eruption of Vesuvius. Who would like to climb right to the top of it?"

There was a stunned silence. Professor Peacock carried on. "This Easter holiday, I'm going to take as many of you as want to come, on a school trip to Italy. We'll stay in Sorrento, a small town very near to Pompeii, and we'll also visit Rome. Sound good?"

The class gaped at her. There had never been a Hogwart's school trip - it just never happened, much less to Italy!

*

It was the week before Hogwarts broke up for Easter. Everyone was excited about going on the trip. Only some of the classics group could go however, the trip cost two hundred galleons; a lot of money. Harry had plenty of money in his vault at Gringotts, and Hermione's parents were quite well off, and had given her the money as an early birthday present.

Mr. Weasley had recently been promoted, and therefore could give Ron, Ginny and the twins, half of the money they needed. Over the two terms, Hermione and Harry had helped the Weasleys to fundraise - selling cakes, car boot sales, sponsored walks and swims, broom cleaning and dog grooming, you name, they'd done it. And it had certainly paid off. They had given in the money on time.

The other people going were Cho Chang, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Lee Jordan and about fifteen other people from assorted houses and years. 

The last week passed quickly, hardly any work was done, and excitement was rising. Ginny and Hermione went off on a major shopping spree, and came back, loaded down with bags of clothes, and their purses very light. They wouldn't let their respective boyfriends; Lee Jordan, and Ron, see what they had bought.

And so it was that sooner than anyone had dared hope for, Hogwarts broke up for Easter, most of the pupils disappeared off home by the express, and it was the night before they were due to leave. 

Hermione and Ginny rushed together, into Harry and Ron's bedroom. Hermione gave Harry a hug, and then Ron a long kiss.

"Have you seen Lee about?" asked Ginny, referring to her boyfriend.

"I think he's in his dorm Ginny," replied Harry, and watched Ginny leave again.

"You're not meant to be in here!" laughed Ron. "If any of the teachers catch you…"

"Then they'll probably draw their own conclusions!" she teased, and pulled Ron onto his bed, where they kissed again.

"Ugh, all this lovey-dovey stuff is doing my head in," said Harry. "Stop it!"

They pulled apart, and grinned sheepishly. 

"Have you finished packing?" asked Harry.

"Of course!" said Hermione, immediately business like. "I can't wait for tomorrow," she said added softly.

She paused, and then gazed at Ron levelly, and turned to look at Harry. "Can I stay here tonight?" she asked.

Harry started, and even Ron looked taken aback. 

"Not like that," she said quickly. "Dean Thomas had gone home for the holidays, I'll sleep in his bed. I just want to chat to the early hours!"

So Hermione went and fetched her night things, and in the end Harry invited Cho Chang to come and sleep in Seamus Finagan's bed, as he was at home too.

They had been told by Professor Peacock that the flight left at 10 in the morning, and to give time to get there, they were to be up by 5 am. The foursome had planned not to go to sleep at all, as it would be too hard to wake up that early, but around midnight, both Hermione and Cho fell fast asleep. 

Ron walked across the room, and dimmed the light. Harry whispered to him, "Trust the girls not being able to stay awake!"

Ron grinned at him, by way of a reply. He got back into bed, and looked across the room, at Hermione. 

She looks so beautiful, he thought, gazing at her cinnamon colored hair, draped across the virginal white pillow, her dark eyelashes resting on dusky pink cheeks.

Eventually Ron and Harry slipped into sleep too, and all too soon, the moon slipped behind the clouds, and the sun rose like a bronze orb.


	3. Sorrento Bound

3 - Sorrento Bound

The spring sunlight piercing through the curtains woke Hermione. For a second, in that stage between sleep and wake, she did not know where she was, and panicked. She wasn't in her dorm room - the photo poster of the waterfall in Zimbabwe was not on the wall next to her, the room was painted in a frosted vanilla cream, instead of powder blue. The tick of the alarm clock on the table next to her bed was louder and deeper than her own clock. And then she realised where she was, and her heartbeat resumed its normal pace. 

Sitting up, she noticed Cho stirring in the bed next to her, her ebony hair spread out like a raven's feather fan on the crisp white pillow. Both Ron and Harry were still asleep.

Hermione's heart swelled. Ron looked so angelic when he was asleep; he looked like a little boy, not a tall, strong fifteen-year-old adolescent. I love him, she thought to herself. 

She looked back to Cho. "Morning!" she whispered, feeling a little shy at talking to a girl a year above her. 

Cho grinned back. "Excited?" she asked, running her fingers through the thick dark mane of hair.

"Very!" replied Hermione emphatically. 

The shrill ring of the alarm clock pierced through their conversation. Hermione slammed her hand down on the snooze button, and then turned the clock off.

"Time to wake up, boys!" sang out Cho, and grinned mischievously at Hermione. Both girls had the same idea simultaneously; they leapt out of bed, and ran across the room. Cho dashed to Harry's bed, and Hermione to Ron's, and they both whipped the duvets off the beds. 

*

All the people going on the trip were assembled in the Great Hall, their canvas bags and suitcases at their feet. A wave of excited chatter ran through the group; they had no idea what to expect. Professor Peacock had told them barely anything about the trip. Many people were complaining about having to get up so early, and they were all wondering why Professor Peacock had not turned up yet. It wasn't like her not to be on time. 

She finally appeared, and did a quick count of heads, to check everyone was there. Then she addressed the group. "As you know, I want you all to experience a new culture, new foods, new people, new places. I want you all to be polite to the people of Italy, to follow instructions, and to be vigilant of danger." Hermione noticed Professor Peacock glance in Harry's direction.

The professor continued. "That applies for the travelling too. We shall be flying by a wizarding plane: Butterfly Airlines. The Hogwarts Express will get us to the airport. I will have more information for you once we've boarded the plane. Now please, follow me."

A few hours later, they got off the Hogwarts Express, and entered the airport. This was a new experience for Harry, he gazed around at the huge expanse; there were shops all around the outside, proclaiming duty free goods for sale, people were bustling around, looking anxiously at the huge electronic timetables, high up on the walls. Harry felt very small suddenly - but he was the only one. Even Ron had been on a plane before, when he and his family had visited Egypt a few years previously. Hermione had been on a Muggle plane many times, when she and her parents had gone on holiday each year. But she was busy telling everyone how different an experience it would be to travel by a wizard airline.

They all had to wait several hours at the airport, because the plane had been delayed. Harry noticed Hermione's ironic smile, and heard her say, "Well one thing never changes!"

Harry didn't quite know what she meant by that, and so ignored it. 

They were heading over to the duty free shops, when Ron caught sight of a stall with brightly colored wrappers and objects on it, about 50 yards away. 

"Sweets!" he cried, and they all zoomed over to have a look. Everyone wanted to buy snacks for the journey.

Ginny was handing over a Sickle for a large bag of fizzy cola cubes, when the short, plump woman behind the counter said, "As you're all buying things, you can have a free fortune cookie each!" And she reached behind the counter, and pulled out a plain wicker basket that was lined with Indian taffeta. It contained several silver packets, and Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, the twins and Lee all took one carefully out. 

They walked away, clutching paper bags full of sweets, and sat down to unwrap the cookies. 

"Let's all break them in half at the same time!" suggested Fred.

"1, 2, 3…. BREAK!" half-shouted George. There was a snapping sound, as everyone broke their cookie in half.

"You shall make some personal changes!" cried Ginny, sounding intrigued.

"Mine's 'You shall find a new love'", said both Hermione and Harry together. They looked sheepishly at each other, and everyone made _ooh_ noises, and giggled. 

"They always say that, it's such a cliché," said Ron quickly. Hermione glanced at him, then looked away.

*

They finally boarded the plane, a few hours later. The seats were in rows of four, so Hermione, Ron, Harry and Cho sat in one row, with Lee, Ginny, Fred and George in the one behind them.

Professor Peacock had had to go on a search for Cho, and finally found her laden down with perfume from the duty-free shops. This delayed the flight even more. 

At first, Hermione twisted around in her seat, to listen to the Weasley twin's stories, and then she read the in-flight magazine. She was just making sure she knew the emergency procedure, when Ron said: "This is going to a trip of a lifetime. I'm so glad I'm sharing it with you."

Hermione's eyes swam. She quickly buried her face in Ron's shoulder to hide her tears. Ron lifted her chin, and kissed her softly on the lips. Hermione kissed him back. She calculated that they had been a couple for 3 months now. That was a fairly long time for a first boyfriend, she knew, although of course Harry and Cho had been going out for almost a year. 

Later, Ron and Harry went off to explore the plane. Typical boys, thought Hermione. She sighed deeply, and looked out of the small window next to her. It was amazing flying over the clouds, no matter how many times she went in a plane; she was always in awe. She turned back, and noticed Cho slipping off her headphones to her Walkman. Cho had always slightly scared Hermione - she was a year older, she was always the height of fashion, and had so much self-confidence. Today Cho was wearing a fitted designer top and a short pencil skirt, with a split up one side, that showed off her legs. Cho stood up, and shifted down two seats, to sit next to Hermione.

"Hi!" Hermione had not meant her voice to quaver slightly, but it did.

Cho did not bother to return the greeting. "So! How's it going with Ron?" Cho said this in what was obviously meant to be a best-friend type voice, but Hermione saw through it. "You're worth better than him you know."

Hermione opened her mouth, but could not think what to say. She stared at Cho's pistachio green necklace, frowning. 

"Has he asked you to…you know? Me and Harry are, this holiday."

Hermione gazed blankly at her, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for not understanding. 

Cho put an arm around Hermione. "He's a boy," she said simply. "You'll find out." And with that, she gracefully unfolded her long legs, stood up, and set off towards the refreshment buffet cart, and the end of the plane. 

Hermione gazed after her. For all her wisdom, Hermione was quite naïve when it came to boys. But she thought she might know what Cho had been talking about. Later, when Harry and Ron returned, she had been doing some thinking. 

"Hi Ron!" she said, and pulled him to her. She saw him grin in surprise before she shut her eyes, and kissed him passionately. It was a long kiss, and Hermione only drew a breath before repeating it. Hermione thought, That'll show Cho. She's not the only one who can be forward. Hermione felt herself forgetting where she was, immersing herself in the kiss. Suddenly, Ron drew away, and she saw him blushing. Hermione looked up to see Professor Peacock standing by their row. 

"I've just been going round to everyone to tell them this; though in light of what I just saw, I'm not sure this applies!" she spoke sternly, but Hermione saw laughter glittering in the Professor's eyes. "Anyway, when we get to the hotel, there will be rooms to hold three, four, or five people. Now, we're not at school, and you're all old enough to be sensible. As it is none of my business anyway, if you wish to share a room with boys and girls together, you may. And also, while we are on this trip, none of the Professor nonsense, I want you to called me Ms. Peacock, ok? And Hermione, if I could have a word?"

Hermione felt her pulse race. Was she in trouble? She followed the Professor, sorry Ms. Peacock to where she was sitting in the plane, and sat down next to her.

Hermione saw Ms. Peacock take a deep breath. "Hermione, I saw you and Ron…I _know _you're a clever, sensible girl, and if you want to share a room in Sorrento with him, that's fine. But you're only fifteen, and I know how easy it is to get carried away…" Ms. Peacock was speaking so frankly, Hermione felt a coral blush creeping up her face, and the heat around her cheeks. 

"I'm embarrassing you, so I'll stop. But please, Hermione, don't rush into things, there's plenty of time for that later, you know."

Somehow, Hermione managed to walk back to her seat. When Ron asked what Ms. Peacock had wanted, she simply said she'd tell him later, hoping he would forget. 

A few hours after they had boarded the plane, the plane reached Rome, and came in to land. Everyone collected their bags from the luggage belt, and were then put on a coach for an exhausting 5-hour drive to Sorrento. Hermione sat next to Ginny, and they both felt travel-sick, so barely talked for all the journey. 

As the coach swung round the tight corners of the Italian roads, Hermione started to feel better, and she craned out of the window with interest. The roads were lined with small shops, and trees that had bright oranges nestled between the verdant leaves, were dotted on every corner. Real orange trees! thought Hermione. This is incredible! 

The coach turned another corner, and what Hermione saw made her head spin. They were up on a cliff face, with a sheer drop down onto a beach below. The sand was palest gold, and the sea sparkled in the evening light. There was no fence to stop the coach hurtling over the edge. The Italian couch driver's driving had not been as careful as it could have been, either. She looked at Ginny, who had obviously noticed the drop as well; her face was ashen white. 

A few minutes later, they turned off the cliff-edge road, and Ms Peacock stood up at the front of the coach, and announced that they were now heading down Sorrento's main road. It was a sweet, provincial street, with shops along each side; many, Hermione decided at a glance, were purely for tourists. The coach took a sharp turn up a steep road, and suddenly they could all see their hotel. It was a large, grand looking building, and was several stories high. Hermione had stayed at hotels in England before; they had never looked like this one. 

It was painted in typical Italian style, a pale terracotta. Each window had shutters, and most windows had a small wrought-iron balcony. Everyone piled off the coach, and grabbed their bags, and dragged them to the main door.

Once inside, Ms. Peacock instructed them to leave their bags in the foyer, and sit down in the hotel's lounge. Hermione watched her speak in rapid Italian to the hotel's owner, who had come out to greet them. Harry leaned over, and whispered to her, "Apparently, she's brought kids here before, from other schools, but on the same Classics trip."

Soon, Ms Peacock was allocating rooms, and in no time at all, Harry, Cho, Ron and Hermione had secured the key to number 309. The Weasley twins, Ginny and Lee Jordan got the room next to them. 

Hermione glanced around the lounge. Ginny was sitting on her own, looking as though she might cry. Hermione followed her gaze, and there was Lee Jordan talking to a Hufflepuff girl in his year. Hermione searched her memory, and dragged up a name. She was called Celia Moonline, and was very tall, slim and had long blonde hair. She was very attractive. Hermione looked back at Ginny. She was dressed in an old-fashioned twin-set, a blue top and white cardigan with matching blue buttons. Her skirt was childish; it was knee-length and flared out. It was patterned with pink flowers. Ginny's russet colored hair was pulled back in a chocolate brown ribbon. Ginny could be pretty, Hermione could see that, but she did not make the most of herself. She looked younger than the three years that separated her and Lee. Hermione wondered how they had ever got together in the first place. She was about to go over to Ginny, when Ms. Peacock called out that all the rooms had been allocated, and they could take their luggage up now. 

The lucky quickest people rushed to the lift, but everyone else had to lug their heavy bags up the many flights of stairs. 

"Here's 309!" called Harry; and Hermione, Cho and Ron followed him. The room was not huge, but it was attractive. The on-suite bathroom was explored, and then they all started to unpack their bags. Hermione took out her two good evening dresses, and walked over to the wardrobe to hang them up, only to discover that Cho had hung all of her clothes up, leaving no room for anything else. Hermione considered asking Cho to put some of her clothes in the chest of drawers, like everyone else had, but decided it was better to not provoke a fight. 

Hermione suddenly felt overwhelming tiredness, and flopped down on her bed. She curled under the duvet, and fell straight to sleep. 

It seemed no time at all, that she heard Ron's muffled voice calling her, and then his hand shaking her shoulder. Blearily, Hermione opened one eye. 

"What?" she sighed crossly. 

"Ms. Peacock just came round to say that it's dinner in 5 minutes, we have to go down now. "

"Oh God," said Hermione, shaking herself awake. She fell to the floor, and rummaged through her clothes. Without thinking, she reached to pull off her tee-shirt, and stopped, embarrassed. Ron had not noticed, and had gone into the bathroom. This was going to be a problem, thought Hermione. I never thought about changing in front of him. She pulled off her clothes at lightning speed, and slipped on a short black satin skirt and a tailored shirt that hugged her figure. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked down the stairs to the dining room, a large spacious room that looked typically Italian. They chose a table, and sat down. Soon Ginny arrived, and sat next to Hermione, and then the Weasley twins came with Lee. 

"Where on earth is Cho?" asked Harry angrily. Everyone shook their heads. No-one had seen her since they arrived. 

The waiters came round with the first course, pasta with a cream sauce. They had nearly finished when Cho flounced in, and sat down at the table. Hermione noticed the usually immaculate makeup had been smudged, and Cho's clothes looked rumpled. Hermione had her suspicions, but kept them to herself.

After the main course (lamb and vegetables) they had Italian lemon cake, which no-body liked, as it was so bitter. 

"I thought we'd be having pizza!" whined Ron, and Hermione felt a flicker of annoyance. 

That night, Hermione changed into her nightdress in the bathroom, and when she came out, she saw the door to the balcony was open, and Harry was sitting outside, in the dark. She nearly went over, but sensed he wanted to be left alone. Hermione fell asleep with mixed emotions, excitement about the next day, when they would visit Pompeii, and worry about Harry. 


	4. Retail Therapy

4 - Retail Therapy

Hermione was sitting at the table in the dining room. The others were sitting with her, and for once, there was silence. Hermione sensed the tension between Cho and Harry, and also between Lee and Ginny. For the hundredth time, she wondered how they had got together in the first place. They were so unsuited. Lee, three years older, was interested in quite different things to Ginny. She was only fourteen - he was seventeen. 

The waiter came round and served them, Hermione sipped her strong Italian coffee, and buttered her croissant. She had forgotten they would of course have continental breakfast in Italy. But everyone missed cereal and toast, or egg and bacon for breakfast.

All of the trip members assembled in the hotel's lounge. Ms. Peacock stood on a chair, and told them the coach was waiting at the bottom of the slope. Everyone rushed down the slope, trying to get the best seats on the coach. 

For a reason that she could not explain, Hermione was dreading sitting next to Ron - so when she saw him try to catch her eye, she pretended not to notice, and went over to Ginny to ask her instead. 

The coach driver was the same one that they had been driven from Rome by, and Hermione shuddered inwardly at the carelessness of European drivers. As the coach rumbled down the tiny streets, Hermione craned out of the window, and could see the blue silhouette of Mount Vesuvius rising majestically in the horizon. It was huge, even from so many miles away. Hermione could not wait for Tuesday when they would actually climb it.

Everyone had a great time at Pompeii. It was the biggest attraction of the area, and so the Classics group spent the whole day there. Hermione was the person who enjoyed it the most - having so much scholastic aptitude, she benefited more than anyone. There was no guided tour to most people's relief, and Ms. Peacock let them wander off on their own, or with friends. They could explore each ruined room, every bedroom, hall and bathroom of each house. There were many side streets, and Hermione and Ginny got lost many times. For the most part, Hermione stayed with Ginny all day. Ron tagged along with the twins and Lee, while Harry explored by himself. Once Hermione caught sight of him, his dark head bowed, sitting on an ancient wall running the length of that street. She turned away, and cursed herself for being a coward, for being too embarrassed to go and ask him if he was alright. 

Ms. Peacock arranged for everyone to meet at one o' clock in the main courtyard, to have lunch. She distributed the packed lunches that their hotel - the Conca Park - had made for them. 

Hermione and Ginny sat down on a dusty, chalky wall, and pulled from the crumpled white paper bags; two huge crusty rolls filled with slabs of cheese, a home-grown orange, and a buttery banana flavoured sugar cake. Hermione thought to herself, it may not be a gourmet meal, but when you're this hungry, it tastes delicious. 

By the end of the day, everyone was exhausted, even Hermione was bored of looking at the ruins. Ginny had left her a while ago, to go round with a friend from her year called Xania, and so Hermione bought herself a coke, and sat down under the shade of a lone tree to drink it. So was at the outskirts of Pompeii, and was starting to worry that could not see anyone else from the group. She heard a giggle from behind her, and twisted round. There was a boy and girl sitting a few metres away- the girl was sitting on top of the boy's lap, and they were kissing passionately. 

Hermione sighed, and turned back. But something was letting off alarm bells in her mind. That girl looked very familiar from the back view…

Hermione looked around again. The girl had stopped kissing the boy, and was turning to talk to him. Hermione saw a quick flash of her face as she turned, but it was enough. 

She sat back, her eyes wide with shock. She did know that girl. That was Cho Chang. And the boy she was kissing was not Harry.

*

Hermione got off the coach, and ran into the hotel on her own. Unlocking the door to the room, she fell onto her bed, and let the door slam behind her.

Deep in thought, she jumped as she heard Cho's voice shouting through the door.

"Hermione! Let us in - you've got the key."

Wordlessly, Hermione walked to the door, and wrenched open the stiff clasp. She pulled the door open enough for Cho to come through, and then turned silently away.

"What's up with you? Grouchy old cow," said Cho, but Hermione did not rise to the insult. Ron and Harry followed her into the room.

Harry said, "Hermione, Cho, we're just going down to the shops to buy some more chocolate, coming?"

Hermione shook her head, and Cho told them she was having a shower.

When Cho had locked the bathroom door, Hermione breathed deeply, and allowed her thoughts to wander. She thought about Ginny, who had admitted to her in Pompeii today that she was terrified she was losing Lee. Hermione thought of the dress Ginny had been wearing today. It was unusually warm weather for March, by English standards anyway, and all the girls had been wearing shorts or summer dresses. Ginny had worn a knee-length, flared dress in pale pink material, with baby-blue ruffles and collar. It was the sort of thing a ten-year-old would feel babyish wearing, but Ginny did not seem to notice. Hermione felt desperately sorry for her friend. Ginny had no idea that she was so frumpy. 

Then a very un-Hermione-ish idea hit her. Looking surreptitiously towards the bathroom door, where she could hear Cho singing a pop song whilst running a bath, she stole over to where Cho had flung her expensive leather bag onto the bed. 

Hit her where it hurts, the bitch, thought Hermione, and pulled out Cho's purse.

*

Ginny was sitting alone it her room, leafing through a book she wasn't really reading. The twins and Lee had gone down to the shops with Ron and Harry. Never asked me, did they, she thought angrily to herself, and flung the book against the wall. 

She flopped onto her bed, and pummeled the pillow in frustration. What's wrong with me? she thought desperately. I am really so ugly that Lee is going off me?

She felt her eyes prickle with tears, and her mouth contorted with self-pity. 

She heard a soft knock at the door, and nearly ignored it. Then she thought it might be Ms. Peacock, and get into great trouble if she did not answer.

"Coming," she called listlessly, and walked over to the door to open it. "Oh! Hi Hermione," she said slowly.

In contrast, Hermione spoke a mile a minute.

"Ginny, come on, get your shoes on, I've found a lot of money, lets go shopping, get a move on, now!"

"_What?_"

"Just come, now!" Ginny watched as Hermione almost fearfully looked behind her, she grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her down the marble staircase. 

"Here's my key, thanks, bye!" called Hermione as they raced past the reception desk of the hotel, flinging the room key to a bemused porter behind the desk.

"Grazie!" he called after her.

"Hermione, what are you on?" cried Ginny, struggling to keep up with Hermione fast walk as they skidded down the slope. 

"We're hitting the shops, big time," called Hermione back to her, as she marched purposefully ahead. 

They walked quickly past the first end of the main Sorrento shopping street, where invariably all the boys would be, and carried on past the forbidden Square. On the other side of the square were all the designer clothes shops. 

"Hermione…Ms. Peacock said we weren't to go past the Square…"

"In here," said Hermione, ignoring Ginny's pleas, stopping short at Max Mara, a Muggle designer shop that was the essence of Italy.

__

"Max Mara??" shrieked Ginny. 

Hermione walked with elegance up to the counter, and asked in her best Italian (being Hermione, she had picked up the dialect already), "Mi puo raccomandare un abito per ma amica?"

Ginny hissed in Hermione's ear, "_What_ did you say?"

But Hermione did not answer. The two shop assistants were looking doubtful, so Hermione sighed dramatically, and pulled out Cho's purse. She waved the thick wad of Lire (the Italian currency) under the shop assistants' noses. 

Their manner changed instantly. One put a reassuring hand around Ginny's shoulders, and steered her towards a selection of beautifully tailored dresses. 

Soon she was in a changing room, with different outfits being passed back and forth by the admiring shop assistants. Every time Ginny stepped out of the changing room, one of them would cry, "Si, si, bella!"

Hermione stood outside, making critical decisions. 

"Lets take that one," she said to Ginny, who was wearing a deep midnight blue dress that came to her mid thighs, and showed off her figure, with a matching tailored jacket. Hermione marveled at how much older she looked, just in a different outfit. "I'll just ask how much it is," she said to Ginny, and then to the shop assistants, "Quanto costa?"

"300,000 lire," replied on of the women, and Hermione nearly blanched, but calmly peeled off six fifty thousand lire notes. 

"Grazie," said Hermione as they left the shop, having also bought a trouser suit and a silk skirt for Ginny, and a dress for Hermione.

Ginny attempted to imitate her, and the shop assistants laughed. 

"What?" said Ginny, bemused. 

"You don't say it how it's spelt," explained Hermione, "you say it Gratzy, with a short 'a'."

They also bought Ginny a top and some jeans from a teen shop called Phard, and Hermione announced they only had a little money left. 

They entered Delizia, a shop devoted to make-up and accessories, and bought some jewellery and make-up for both girls. 

"It's getting late," said Hermione, checking her watch. "We've got enough money for an ice-cream each. Coming?"

The ice cream was everyone's favourite thing about Italy. It was reasonably priced, and the most delicious thing anyone had ever tasted. More like sorbet than creamy ice cream, it came in more flavours than you could imagine. Today Hermione chose green apple and Ginny had a double cone, with one scoop of melon, and one of coconut. 

They walked out of the ice-cream restaurant, licking their cones, and felling happy. Both girls swung glitzy bags emblazoned with designed names from their free hand, felt tired but happy. 

Hermione and Ginny walked slowly up the slope to the hotel, finished off their ice creams, and chatting about the latest gossip. 

Hermione picked up her key from reception, and wearily they climbed the stairs to the rooms on the third floor. 

Ginny went off to her room, and Hermione walked across the hallway to her own. Unlocking the door with her key, she jumped at the scene before her. 

Ms. Peacock was sitting on one of the beds, trying to comfort a distraught Cho, whose face was ugly and crumpled from crying. 

Hermione felt a very large wave of panic come over her. What had she done? She was a thief, how could she…

Her thoughts tailed off as Ms. Peacock turned towards her. "I believe Cho's purse has gone missing-"

"STOLEN!" roared Cho, interrupting her. "It was one of those good-for-nothing maids who come and clean the rooms, I know it was, I could get my father to shut this place down…" 

Ms. Peacock sighed, and Hermione intuitively knew she had had a hard time calming Cho down. "How much was in your purse?" the teacher asked Cho lightly.

Cho looked up at her, and a glint of embarrassment flushed over her face. "One million lire," she said very quietly. 

Ms. Peacock's face turned very white. "One million lire! You _stupid _girl. Deliberately disobeying the rules! I said the very greatest amount was to be one hundred and fifty thousand!" 

Hermione looked over at Ron and Harry, who were skulking at the other end of the room, Ron looking fed up with Cho, and Harry extremely embarrassed. 

Hermione quickly calculated in her head. One million Lire was almost seven hundred Muggle pounds, so that was three hundred and fifty Galleons! More than the trip itself had cost! She had not realised quite how much she and Ginny had spent. Cho's parents must be so rich, she thought to herself.

Ms. Peacock eventually got away, promising Cho she would ask the hotel manager in the morning. 

Hermione got into bed, but could not sleep. A choking, suffocating feeling made her feel stiff to her stomach, and terrified of being caught.


	5. Sherry and Collette

5 - Sherry and Collette

It was Easter Sunday. Their second full day on the Italy trip had been their most exhausting yet. In the morning they had traveled to Naples, a place that everyone felt decidedly un-safe in. It reminded Hermione of London's red light district, Soho, with decaying buildings, rotting posters on the walls, and the streets littered with rubbish. Compared to the cozy, almost rural village of Sorrento, Naples looked dark and threatening. 

Everyone clutched their bags tightly to them, as they flowed off the coach and onto the pavements. Ms. Peacock had taken them to see Naples' museum, which to tell the truth, no-one found interesting. Except perhaps Hermione. 

It was your average museum, thought Ron, and he wove his way through marble statues, and Italian paintings. Despite the day being very sunny, inside the museum everyone was shivering, and Ms. Peacock had gone to enquire why it was freezing. 

"I'm _so_ cold," moaned Ginny. She was wearing her new outfit, a pink top with Phard written across the front, and her new baggy Phard jeans. 

Hermione took off her fleece top, and handed it to her, despite the fact that she was now only dressed in spaghetti-strap top and shorts. She noticed with contempt that now Ginny was dressed in something that was fashionable, Lee had his arm around her, and was not even glancing at other girls.

"Boys", she snorted out loud. 

While Ms. Peacock was away, most people gave up looking round, and sat on the white marble staircase, making a nuisance of themselves to other visitors. 

After a couple of hours, Ms. Peacock said they could have a quick look in the gift-shop, and then they had to go. 

"At last!" said Ron to Harry. 

"What?" said Hermione, listening in.

"Hermione," said Harry slowly, as one might when speaking to a small child. "It's Easter Sunday. We don't have _any_ chocolate. All gift shops sell chocolate."

"But…didn't you buy some in Sorrento just last night?"

"Yeah!" said Ron contemptuously. "But we ate it all yesterday!"

Hermione sighed at the one-track minds of boys' - their stomachs, and walked off. 

She was choosing some postcards in the gift-shop, when she heard Ron, Harry and the twins come storming up. 

"It's a bloody _gift-shop_, for Christ's sake," said Fred.

"What sort of a place doesn't sell chocolate?"

Hermione watched with amusement at their expressions. She glanced over at Ginny, who was watching the boys too. She looks how I feel, thought Hermione, and walked over. Taking Ginny by the arm, she steered her out of the gift-shop. Pulling a giant bar of Honeyduke's finest out of her shoulder bag, and breaking it in two, she said, "What separates the women from the men, Ginny?" as she passed her a chunk of the milk chocolate.

Ginny giggled, and shook her head. "Dunno."

"A brain," said Hermione, "and a bit of preparation."

*

Without even going back to the hotel for a break, Ms. Peacock bundled everyone back into the coach, and they set off for the sulphur springs. 

It was nearing the middle of the day, and the heat was getting a little uncomfortable. Everyone was accustomed to cold, rainy, English weather. 

They had a very strange guide, a man who Hermione thought must be at least over seventy, with a wiry white beard, bald head, and dark glasses obscuring a lot of his face. He was over-weight, and needed a stick to walk. It was a strange choice for a guide, she thought. 

The ground was rough and rugged, and there were random pools of mud scattered around the vast expanse of land. Each pool looked perfectly normal until you got quite close, and saw there were large angry bubbles popping and surging on the surface. 

Not many people bothered trying to decipher the guide's heavily Italian accented English, and only Hermione and a couple of other studious types were really taking it all in. The Weasley twins were more interested in trying to push each other in the scalding mud pools, and Ginny was checking her appearance in a small hand mirror. 

Cho was listening, drone-eyed to some Muggle metal music she loved on her walkman; everyone was sick of her going on about how brilliant groups like Slipknot and Korn were. Most people preferred wizard bands, although Ginny's current favourite was an Irish band named Lifewest, who were too manufactured and poppish for most people's tastes.

Eventually Ms. Peacock managed to get a word in edgeways, as their guide was very eager to talk for as long as he could. She thanked him profusely and practically shoved the group back down to where the coach was waiting. 

Then they went to Baiae, a similar place to Pompeii, with a name no one could pronounce, not even Ms. Peacock. It was the ruins of an ancient village, but unlike Pompeii, it was not chalky and dusty, but green, with grass and flowers growing everywhere. There were far fewer restrictions, in Pompeii, many places had been roped off so that people did not damage them, but it was not the case in Baiae. Soon everyone was climbing all over the ruins, and Weasley twins and Lee hoisting Ginny up on top of a building. It was agreed by everyone after the trip, when they were all back at Hogwarts, that Baiae was one of the best places they visited. 

Ron and Hermione crawled into a cave-like place, and kissed. Hermione enjoyed it, but somehow it was not the same as it used to be. She didn't feel the same rush of emotion, the fireworks in her brain, her heart pounding a hundred times a minute, so she feared it was audible to all around. Kissing Ron used to be better than anything, he smelt of vanilla and ripe apples, and her whole body was on fire. But now, she didn't feel any of that. Hermione buried her face in his hair, feeling guilty. She wasn't even sure that she loved him. Perhaps I never did, she thought. Who I am to presume that I know what love is? I'm fifteen, what do I know about what love truly is? 

Harry had tracked down Cho, and they were sitting on a wall, holding hands. Harry felt a great heaviness in his heart. He knew that Cho wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He was under-age by a year, and besides, he wasn't ready. But he knew Cho would leave him otherwise. He lent over, and kissed Cho on the tip of her nose. Cho pulled his face towards hers, and shut her eyes, kissing him, each time deeper, each time longer and firmer. She slipped a hand round onto his back, and rubbed it up and down, then slipped it underneath his shirt, and caressed his bare skin. Harry knew what she was asking, and he pulled away. 

"Still thinking about it?" she asked coyly.

He nodded. Cho bent forward, purposefully revealing more cleavage, and whispered in his ear, "I won't wait much longer Harry."

She jumped lightly off the wall, and sashayed down the path. 

Harry put his head in his hands. It did not cross his mind that someone who put pressures on you, does not really love you at all. 

*

When they finally returned to the hotel, everyone was exhausted. Even Ms. Peacock looked slightly less chirpy than normal, and admitted travelling to three places in one day was a bit mad. 

Hermione walked into her room, to find Cho bouncing around excitedly. The night before she had written an anguished letter to her father about her missing money. He had sent an owl by return of post. There it sat on Cho's bed, a giant Eagle Owl. It did not have the usual leather pouch attached to its leg, but a gilt box, plated with gold leaf, and inlaid with velvet. It was also wearing a silver collar around its neck. Cruelty to animals, thought Hermione. Who ever heard of an owl wearing a collar, especially not a heavy solid silver one. Inside the gilt box was a cheque for another million Lire, and a note from Cho's father, saying he would do everything he could to shut the hotel down. 

"Look what Daddy's sent me!" Cho squealed. Hermione nodded politely, and flopped onto her bed. She had stopped feeling guilty for taking Cho' money, because Cho Chang deserved everything that came to her. Hermione just hoped Cho didn't find the Max Mara bag hidden at the bottom of the wardrobe. She would know Hermione could never afford a Max Mara dress. 

Most people went to sleep until evening, and Hermione was one of them. When she woke, however, the room was deserted. 

"Funny," she said to herself out loud. 

She went and sat on the balcony outside their room, and watched people entering and leaving the hotel. Some were from her trip, but most were not. 

It was dusk, and the rosy twilight fell on Hermione's face, casting her in a pink glow. She had changed into a plain black skirt that was ankle length, with a side split up to her knee, and a somber black jacket. She looked older than her fifteen years. 

Hermione heard the door open. She did not look around to see who the footsteps belonged to, she already knew. 

"Hermione?" Ron's voice penetrated her thoughts. "Dinner is in five minutes."

"Um…I'm not hungry. I'm not going to come."

"What? Why?"

"I've got a headache," Hermione sighed deeply. "Go without me."

"Fine," said Ron dismissively. "But you will be coming for an ice cream later, when everyone goes shopping?" 

"No, I'm going to have an early night."

"Hermione! You're my _girlfriend_! Are you ashamed to be seen with me, or something? I asked you to come down to the shops yesterday, and you said no. Then I saw you in walking down the high street with Ginny! And now this!" Ron's tone of voice was getting steadily louder. 

Something snapped in Hermione. "You vain, conceited little PRIG!" she screamed. Ron went white, and stepped back. "You think everything I do is to do with you! Well it's not! I have friends you know, you're not the centre of my universe!" Hermione screeched the last few words until she was hoarse. 

Ron dropped his gaze, and walked quickly away. He paused at the door, his eyes burning with anger, then wrenched the door open. He stalked out, not bothering to shut it after him. 

Hermione watched him go, then fell back onto the bed, starting to cry. Heavy sobs racked her whole body, and hot angry tears gashed down her face. The pain was choking her. She clutched the bed, as if for dear life. 

She did not notice the two figures appear at her doorway, but jumped up when she heard the knock at the door. One of the girls had tapped tentatively on the oak paneling, and when they saw her sit up, they both walked in. 

Hermione reached over to her bedside table, and wrenched a tissue out of the box. Swabbing angrily at her eyes with it, she said, in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry, can I help you?" Hermione took in the two girls properly for the first time. She had never seen them before, and they looked about her age. They were standing awkwardly. Hermione had never seen two people so unlike in all her life. One girl was tall and willowy. She had a sleek blonde bob, and had tanned skin and pink cheeks, with a smattering of freckles over her nose. She was dressed in a Lagoon tee-shirt and baggy jeans with sneakers. There was a small blue rose bud tucked in her ash-blonde hair. She looked friendly. 

The other girl was very continental. She had amazingly long hair, almost down to her waist, and it was jet black and chocolate brown where the light caught it. Her eyes flashed, and were dark cocoa. She was very petite, small and thin. She was wearing a plain blue strappy summer dress.

The blonde girl spoke first, hesitantly. "We heard all that shouting, then your boyfriend stormed out…we wanted to see you were ok. He wasn't hitting you or anything?" Hermione could tell by her lilting accent that she was American.

"Oh no, just a row…"

"So are you? OK, I mean."

Hermione gazed into those concerned cornflower blue eyes, and felt her eyes flood with tears again. Both girls rushed forward, and the continental girl hugged her tightly. "Hey! Don't cry!"

"I'm sorry! You're really kind to come and see if I was alright."

The dark-haired girl leant back and held Hermione at arm's length. 

"Right," she said. "I'm Collette, and this," she gestured towards the blonde girl, "is Sherry."

"Hi," said Sherry, the American. "Now tell us your problem."

So Hermione told them. She told them about her and Ron, and how she was scared she didn't love him. She said how Cho was cheating on Harry - "Not THE Harry Potter!" exclaimed Sherry at that point. "She's CRAZY!" and how Hermione had stolen Cho's money to buy clothes for her and Ginny. She explained about how Ginny was on the brink of losing her boyfriend Lee, and all the other facts in between. She cried a few times during telling them. But it was good to let it all out.

Speaking about it, confiding in someone was the tonic she needed, and suddenly she felt blissfully calm. When she had finished, Hermione said, "I'm sorry to pour all this out on you, perfect strangers, what was I thinking, so sorry…"

"Hermione! Shut up!" said Sherry, business-like. Hermione involuntarily jerked back, surprised.

"Don't mind Sherry, she's American!" said Collette rudely, grinning.

"Shut up, you!" yelled Sherry good-naturedly. 

"What Sherry was _trying_ to say," started Collette, sighing in mock desperation, "was that _we _came to _you_, we wanted to help." This time Hermione noticed Collete's flawless English was accented with Italian…but with a tilt of something else, she thought to herself. 

Sherry bounced down on the bed, her blonde hair flying up, her eyes glittering. "We're glad to help, kid."

Hermione half smiled to herself. American accents are so sweet! she thought.

"Thank you," she answered demurely. 

"Would you listen to that accent! It's SO cute!" said Sherry. 

Woah, déjà vu, thought Hermione.

Suddenly Sherry jumped up. "All that angst has made me starving!" she made for the door. "Let's do lunch, sweeties!" in a mock English accent. Hermione shook her head in amazement, and Collette said, "Sherry, it's not lunchtime, it's evening."

But either Sherry didn't hear this, or she pretended not to. Sherry grabbed Collete's right hand, and Hermione's left, and dragged them, singing loudly, down the stairs to the dining room. 

She's worse than Ms. Peacock, thought Hermione, half exasperated, half amused. 

*

At dinner, Hermione had sat on the usual table, pulling up chairs for Collette and Sherry. She was about to introduce them, but they got there first.

"Hey guys! I'm Sherry Cranleigh, and I'm from the good old US of A!"

"Snap out of cheerleader mode," Collette told her, then introduced herself too. "Hi, I'm Collete Balatoni."

Hermione glanced round happily, Harry was talking to Sherry about what American Quidditch was like, and Collete was admiring Ginny's new dress. Hermione noticed Fred and George with their eyes on each girl. She knew that look by now, and grinned wryly to herself. 

But her heart sunk when Ron spoke. 

"I thought you had a headache," he said softly, each word dripping with sarcasm. His eyes flashed dangerously dark, and to her horror, Hermione knew she was afraid of him. This isn't the Ron I know, she thought desperately. Or thought I knew, she said to herself as an afterthought, sighing. 

"So you're more interesting in meeting new airhead friends than spending time with me?"

Hermione ignored this. But the evening was ruined for her. 

*

After dinner, Hermione had been dreading going back to her room, and facing Ron on his own, but amazingly Sherry seemed to read her mind.

"Come crash at ours tonight. We can have a girly chat for hours!"

Hermione shot her a grateful look, and whispered in Harry's ear, to let him know where she was going. 

Once they were in Sherry and Collette's room, Hermione sighed with relief. The room was very similar to her own, but the balcony was a little larger, and the bathroom a little smaller. The walls were also painted in a ripe mango colour, instead of cream.

Hermione flopped on the bed, and then realised with horror that she did not have any of her night things. She couldn't face the possibility of meeting Ron if she went to fetch them. She voiced this to Sherry and Collette. 

"Hey, you can skip brushing your teeth for one night," said Sherry easily, and Hermione shuddered. "Here, have one of my nightshirts." 

Sherry rummaged through her chest of drawers, and tossed a black garment in the vague direction of Hermione. Hermione clawed at it, and dropped it. This is why you're no good at sport, she thought to herself. Hermione spread the night-shirt out. It was an over-sized black T-shirt, and it had Pearl Jam printed on the front in flaking silver letters. 

"Pearl Jam?" she asked uncertainly, but Sherry had gone into the bathroom. Hermione thought of her own night dresses, ankle length, with pretty lace around the collar…and grinned. 

"What'cha laughing at?" said Collette. 

"Oh, nothing." Hermione saw Sherry come out of the bathroom, running a brush through her short caramel hair. 

"So what are you doing in Sorrento then?" Hermione asked, directing it at Sherry, however both girls answered.

"Me and Sherry go to the same school, and we both live with the same foster mother," said Collette. 

"I wanted to come to Italy to see what Collette's homeland was like. I'd never been abroad before - I thought we had it all in America, but I was so wrong," added Sherry. 

"Why don't you live in Italy?" probed Hermione gently, then wished had not asked, as she saw Collette's cocoa coloured eyes swim with tears. 

"I'm sorry," she almost whispered. "It's still so painful."

Hermione noticed Sherry's eyes fill with sympathy, and felt terrible for upsetting her.

"I'm sorry -" she started. 

Sherry shook her head. "Don't be." And Collette nodded in agreement. She took a long, shuddering breath, then spoke again.

"It's a long story. I'm Italian by origin, but I live in America. I lived in Rome until I was eight, then…" Her voice tailed off. "My mother was murdered, along with many other people."

Hermione's mouth involuntarily dropped open with shock. "You-Know-Who?" she asked wonderingly, thinking of Harry's parents. 

"No." Collette shook her head. "In Rome there are many Muggles. Young men have formed opposing gangs, and there is great rivalry between them. The two main gangs got into an argument, right outside St Peter's Cathedral, of all places. One of them pulled out a knife, but the members of the opposing gang all had guns. They fired them randomly, all over the place. Innocent victims, Muggles, Witches, Wizards, so many were killed. Just senseless violence." Collette's voice broke, but she carried on. 

"Mamma was just in the wrong place, at the wrong time." She sighed raggedly. "I lived with Nona, my grandmother after that day, but she was old and frail, and died within the year. 

"At the time, Italian orphanages were full up, there was a drop in the economy, no one could afford to adopt a child. The social worker in charge of my welfare was at her wit's end. She tried everything, you see I had no other living relatives in contact. All I know about my father is that he is…or was, British. He left Mamma when she was eight months pregnant with me. Men are such cowards."

Hermione saw her dark chocolate eyes flash with anger, and hurt for the father she had never met.

"My social worker - Caterina - then remembered some contacts she had in the US. Within three months she had found me an orphanage in Florida, and I flew out on my own to America. I've been there ever since, because Jill adopted me a year later. I live with Sherry."

Hermione felt herself choke up. How could anyone have lived such a terrible life in such a short time? So many let downs, so many tragedies. 

Sherry told her story. 

"I was given up for adoption when I was born. I know my Mom was fifteen when she had me, and my Dad was seventeen. They thought they were too young to take care of a kid, so they dumped me." Sherry's words were heavy. She was trying to make light of it, but Hermione could see her story hurt her too. 

"Jill couldn't have kids. She's never told me why, I think there's something wrong with her cervix, or something like that. I stayed in the orphanage until I was five. I was practically past my sell-by-date! People only want sweet little blonde babies. But Jill chose me. It took her a long time to do all the legal stuff, I didn't get to live with her till I was seven."

Sherry flicked a wallet out of her bag, and showed Hermione a picture of a small blonde girl with plaits, holding the hand of a laughing woman.

"That's me and Jill, soon after I was adopted. I don't call her Mom, but she is really my mother - she raised me, she loved me. 

"Then, when I was nine or ten, she decided she wanted to adopt another child. She chose Collette cause of her sad story. She managed to adopt her a lot quicker, seeing as she'd already adopted before, ya know?" 

Collette took up the story. "Jill works at the same high school we go to. She's the secretary there, typing and stuff." Hermione then noticed what Collete's Italian accent was marked by; an American accent, the same as Sherry's.

The three of them chatted a little more, and eventually went to sleep. But Hermione stayed awake, worrying about how trivial her problems sounded, compared to Sherry and Collette, who had been through so much.


	6. Temptation

6 - Temptation

The next morning, Hermione returned to her own hotel room. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, and her heart was pounding. She didn't know what to think, but what happened next was what she least expected. 

Tentatively, she opened the door with her key, and stepped inside. Ron was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands. He looked up as he heard Hermione come in, and jumped to his feet. Ron rushed towards her, his expression remorseful. 

"Hermione, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I was such a bastard to you; all you deserve is love and tenderness. I'm not good enough for you Hermione, I don't deserve someone so clever and beautiful, so…you."

Hermione sat down on the bed, thinking quickly. "Thank you, Ron. That means more to me than you can ever know. But I can't forgive you just like that. You really scared me, you know that, don't you?"

Ron bowed his head, looking terribly ashamed.

"But we can re-build this. It'll just take time," she continued. Hermione looked deep into Ron's eyes, and saw how full of pain they were. "Oh don't look like that!" she cried, cradling him to her cheek. Ron turned his face towards hers, and brushed his lips against hers. Hermione responded, and she felt the warmth flood into her. 

They were immersed in the kiss, the whole world a separate dimension from their two bodies locked together in passion, and when they heard the door open, they jumped apart guiltily. 

It was Cho.

"Cho, where the hell have you been?" roared Ron angrily.

Hermione looked at his face, contorted with tension. "Ron, Ron, what is it? What has she done?" she said, softly but urgently. 

"Cho disappeared last night, and she didn't come back - until now. Harry's been going crazy with worry." Ron spoke to Hermione, but kept his gaze level with Cho's arrogant smirk. 

"I'm sure he coped without me," she drawled. "He's a big boy."

Ron's face twisted with fury on behalf of his best friend, and Hermione's heart sank faster than the Titanic. She realised she knew where Cho had gone last night. When she had been about to go into Collette and Sherry's room, she heard high pitched giggling coming from the end of the corridor, and saw a girl swinging her black hair, as she walked into a room with a boy. She had toyed with the idea at the time that it could have been Cho, but had scolded herself for fantasizing, and watching too many television soap operas.

Hermione looked straight at Cho. She had a new kind of confidence; she practically glowed. Hermione did not have to be the world's greatest expert on love to now that Cho had not got that kind of inner radiance from over-indulging on chocolate. Cho Chang had spent the night with another boy. 

At the worst possible moment, Harry walked in. He opened his mouth to say something to Ron, then he saw Cho from the corner of his eye. 

Unlike Ron's reaction, Harry was all smiles. 

"Cho!" he cried, and swept her off her feet in a hug. Planting a kiss on her cheek, he asked, "Where were you last night? I was getting a bit worried."

Cho, oozing confidence, twirled petulantly, and returned Harry's look with a dazzling million-dollar smile. 

"Me and Lydia went to a club - it was so late when we got back that I went to her room, and slept in the spare bed, because I didn't want to barge in and wake everyone up." 

Hermione inwardly snorted. There were so many holes in that story that it fell apart as soon as it was told. Lydia was a Hufflepuff girl in Cho's year, and one of the most boring girls at Hogwarts. Cho would never deign to speak to such a nobody, let alone go clubbing with her. Besides, Lydia's idea of a fun night was to create some new Arithmancy equations, and test them out, she would hate clubbing. The icing on the cake was that Lydia and her friend were in a two-bed room, there was no such spare bed. Hermione waited for Harry to push her away, and accuse her of lying, but to her astonishment - and revulsion, Harry hugged her again, and told Cho to let him know where she was next time. 

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, and Ron made a mental note to talk to Harry later. 

They went down to breakfast, where Hermione met Collette and Sherry. 

"Hi guys," she greeted them, and Sherry burst into high-pitched laughter, that caused everyone in the dining hall to turn and glance at her. 

"WHAT?" said Hermione.

"Must be my American influence, honey!" shrieked Sherry, in hysterics. "Hi guys, how USA is that!"

"Hey, English people don't speak the way you think we do. We don't all speak like the Queen."

"Stress not!" sniggered Sherry. 

"What are you doing today?" asked Hermione, searching for a safer subject. 

"We're just having a lazy shopping day today," replied Sherry, and Collette cut in, "And boy spotting!"

"What about you, Hermione?"

Hermione explained they were going to the Paestum Greek Temples, and after lunch, to the beach nearby. 

"Have fun!"

"We'll see you tonight."

Hermione dithered over coffee or hot chocolate, and Ron fed her pieces of his croissant. Things are getting back to normal, she thought. 

The Paestum Greek Temples were quite a way away, and the coach was stifling hot. Someone calculated that it was the hottest day of the year so far, and Hermione sucked ruefully at the dregs of her water bottle. 

When they arrived, there was a breeze to cool them, and most people flopped on the grass to sunbathe. Even Hermione was content to look at the majestic Temples from a distance, and she lay back in Ron's arms. 

Ms. Peacock sat on the grass a few yards from the group, and watched Hermione and Ron flirting with each other. She was sharp eyed, and had not missed the rift between them. She glanced at Cho and Harry, lying side by side on the grass, Cho plaiting daisies together in a chain. Ms. Peacock disliked Cho. Of course, as a teacher, she kept her feelings to herself, but now they were on holiday, her feelings of protection on Harry's behalf over-flowed. She had heard that Cho had slept with an Italian boy she had only met once before, and could only hope that Cho had been careful. Goodness knows what would happen to me if she went home pregnant, Ms. Peacock thought to herself. 

Soon she stood up, and put on a cheerful face, hustling everyone to their feet, and herding them off in the direction of the Temple ruins. Moaning, people walked off half-heartedly. 

Hermione felt the heat on the back of her neck. She and Ron had stolen away from the group, and were sitting in the shade - and privacy - behind an ancient granite slab. 

"I love you, Hermione," said Ron. 

Hermione thought for a moment. "Shh," she said, pressing a finger against his lips. 

Ron turned his head away, but Hermione caught a glimpse of the pain in his eyes.

Oh hell, thought Hermione, and said quickly, "I love you too." But the damage had been done, and Ron had seen her true thoughts, though only for a fleeting second. However, he acted as though nothing had happened. 

Ron smiled at her, and kissed her cheek, so lightly it felt like a flutter of gossamer butterfly wings. Hermione took his hand, and they walked off across the grass, dappled sunlight falling onto them.

Ms. Peacock found a secluded picnic spot nearby, in the midst of some woods, ascetically placed in a clearing. Everyone dug out their Lire, and paid for soft drinks and sandwiches. The hotel had had a rush of business that day, and was unable to provide lunches. 

They arranged themselves on the different wooden bench-tables scattered around, and ate. Ginny sat with Hermione and Ron, Lee's arm glued to her at all times. Hermione still had reservations about whether he truly liked her, though. She turned and looked into the tensely packed trees: conifers and evergreens, great ancient oaks, and spindly saplings. 

Up until that moment, they had seen little or no evidence of magical life in Italy. Sorrento was a predominantly Muggle town, their hotel being the only exclusively wizarding establishment. Most of the sites they had visited were treasured just as much by Muggles, as by witches and wizards, and so they had been mixing with Muggles all week. No one had been permitted to perform magic all week. 

But in an instant, that all changed. 

Ginny drained the last of her Lemon Tango, and grabbed Harry, Hermione and Ron's arms. 

"I heard something," she whispered dramatically. 

Behind them, Hermione heard the twins mutter something about espionage, as she dragged them into the trees. 

"What? What did you hear?" asked Harry

"Nothing whatsoever. She's just got an over-active imagination," sighed Ron, speaking as though Ginny was not there. 

"I did!" squealed Ginny, in response, and continued conspiringly, "It came from the trees."

Ginny disappeared into the foliage, while the others hung back.

They were turning around to head back to the group, when Ginny appeared, panting, red in the face. 

"Told you!" she said triumphantly, clutching a struggling winged cat in her arms. 

*

Hermione sat next to Ginny on the coach. She glanced at the rucksack on Ginny's lap, which was moving vigorously, and emitting tiny mews.

"Is it kind to keep it in there?" she asked, half despairingly.

"Ms. Peacock would see otherwise," she whispered back, as if this answered the question.

Hermione sighed. Ginny had already named the cat Lilia, after the Italian brand name of bottled water. She was a palest tan, with chocolate markings in a butterfly shape around her muzzle, and brown tip to her tail, and chocolate paws. The Siamese markings gave her a sophisticated look, and her brilliant sapphire eyes matched the bright blue wings that sprouted from her back. At that moment, Hermione could hear the wings beating incessantly against the rucksack, and suddenly a ripping noise, followed by a large gash in the cloth. A butterfly-marked face pushed it's way out. Lilia looked triumphant.

Hermione pretended to go to sleep.

They reached the beach soon after one o' clock, and the girls, who had put their bikinis on under their clothes that morning, raced onto the sands, pulling off items of clothing. 

Hermione, clad in a black bikini to show off her tan, dived into the sea, Ginny close behind. She had entrusted the care of Lilia to Xania, her Ravenclaw friend, as Xania could not swim, and was lazing on the sands instead.

Ginny was wearing a deep blue swimsuit, with a diagonal silver stripe, and had pinned a large blue lily into her hair. The water was celestially warm. Hermione was inwardly rejoicing. She was so used to British beaches, where the sea remained obstinately cold all year round, even if the temperature was high, and this was like paradise comparatively. The beach was immaculate. There was no litter, the sand was golden-white, and the sun was bleaching everyone's hair blonde. Hermione lay on her back in the clear aqua water, and kicked her feet lazily to stay afloat. 

Cho skimmed past her. Hermione took in her saffron coloured bikini, so skimpy that it left practically nothing to the imagination. It was a string bikini, tied in a halter style behind her neck. It's so tempting to swim up behind her, and un-tie it, thought Hermione wickedly. Hermione was desperate to hurt Cho, in any way she could; she was filled with such over-flowing rage for what she was doing to Harry. 

Later, when everyone tired of swimming, and Hermione felt her skin beginning to burn from too much sunbathing on the sand, she sat up, and pulled on a tight pink Rosebud T-shirt, and some grey shorts. Rosebud was her favourite clothes shop. It had recently opened in Hogsmeade, and was quite expensive. 

She was braiding her wet hair into two plaits, when Harry and Ron came up to her, Harry clutching his camera. 

"Oh, Harry, no! I look terrible!"

"You look divine to me," said Ron huskily.

Hermione knew she was expected to be flattered by this, but Ron's over the top comment only made her feel distanced from him. As she was pulled into Ron's arms, in preparation for Harry to take a photo, she felt cold, despite the sun. 

Ron draped an arm across her back, but Hermione put her arms stiffly in front of her, fidgeting with her hands. 

Harry took a couple of pictures, then looked around. "Have you seen Cho?" he asked them.

"She was in the sea before, - I haven't seen her since then though," replied Hermione. 

Harry wandered off down the beach, his head turning this way and that, trying to spot his girlfriend. 

All too soon, the sun started slipping down the sky, and Ms. Peacock announced that it was time to leave. When they returned to the hotel, Hermione went to find Collette and Sherry. They all bundled into Ginny's room, and Hermione introduced everyone again. She was pleased to see that Ginny was getting on especially well with Collette. She needs a good friend, thought Hermione to herself. 

A thought struck her. "I'll never see you again after tomorrow!" she said, suddenly. 

"Let's exchange addresses," said Sherry, and she scribbled down her and Collete's address, in Florida. "The Sunshine State," she sighed happily. 

"You what?"

"You have a lot to learn, my dear girl," said Sherry, in a totally serious voice. 

Hermione shook her head, as she too wrote down her address on a scrap of paper. 

"And here's the address of Hogwarts - my school," she said. "It's a boarding school, so if you want to write to me during term time…"

Hermione soon returned to her room, leaving Ginny still chatting to Sherry and Collete. She felt overwhelmingly tired, as the salt air from the beach had done its job.

She lay down on her bed, and stopped trying to force open her heavy eyelids…

*

Hermione was asleep, hours later, curled up in a ball on top of her duvet, wearing only her bikini and a shirt over it. 

It was nightfall. She was dreaming - she was riding a palomino horse, and there was someone riding it too, sitting behind her in the old worn leather saddle. The person had their hands around her waist. They were riding out through a forest, and into some open fields. She heard some voices calling her back, screaming at her, begging her. Hermione recognised the voices, but could not make out whom they belonged to. Some more voices, muffled, filtered into her dream: they were shouting in anger, piercing the moment. A great slamming sound came, and Hermione helplessly watched the image in front of her eyes melt into nothingness. 

Blearily, she opened one eye. Harry was sitting on his bed, alone, his head cupped in his hands. Hermione shook herself awake, and sat up.

"Harry?" she whispered, taking a few tentative steps towards him. Harry's head jerked up, and immediately turned away from her, ashamed. But Hermione's eyes were quick enough to take in the rivulets of tears streaking his cheeks, and more building behind his glasses, in those deep green eyes. 

"What is it?" she asked him, urgently. 

"Were you woken by the door slamming?" he asked, trying to keep his voice normal, avoiding the question. 

"Well, yes, I suppose so…Why? Who slammed the door?"

"It was Cho. We broke up."

Hermione sat down heavily on the bed, next to Harry. "What happened?"

"She's been cheating on me, Hermione. She's been seeing another boy all week - she slept with him." Harry bowed his head, desperately trying to hide his face. Hermione felt a great lump in her throat. She was desperately ashamed that she had not told Harry what she had known for some time. She didn't know what to do, or what to say. If only Ron was here, she thought desperately. He's better at this kind of thing than I am.

"Where's Ron?" she asked tentatively.

"Gone out…with Lee and the twins. They've found some bar where they serve alcohol to people under eighteen."

Hermione raged inwardly. Great wizards, she thought.

"How did you find out?"

"I'd had this feeling something was up all week," continued Harry, "and I asked her straight out this afternoon. At first she denied it, of course, but in the end she admitted it all."

Hermione rose, and filled two glasses with mineral water. She headed back to the bed, and passed on to Harry, which he sipped silently. 

Presently, when Harry's tears had dried, he said, "I don't know what I'll do without her, you know. More than a year we've been together, and she's changed so much."

"You'll get over her Harry. Maybe find someone else, given time." Hermione was making up her words on the spot; she had no idea of what the right thing to say was.

Harry was silent, then spoke. "You've been so kind, Hermione."

Hermione smiled at him crookedly. "It's the least I can do," she said, slipping an amiable arm around his back.

Harry turned to face her, pulling her into his arms. "You're right, you know. So intelligent, so perceptive. Not like me." Hermione started to laugh, and shake her head, and suddenly she felt Harry pull her face up towards his, and they were immediately kissing. Harry pulled Hermione closer, reaching for her hungrily, exploring her. Soon his hands were slipping down her body, stroking her back, and pulling at the buttons on her shirt clumsily. 

Hermione felt the longing, and she responded, despite herself, arching her back towards Harry, reaching for his face, dancing her fingertips over his cheeks.

She felt Harry's hand on her breast, and pulled back instantly.

"What is it?" asked Harry breathlessly, his hair damp, his eyes full of desire.

"We mustn't, Harry."

"Why? Why not?"

It took all of Hermione's will power to step off of the bed. Her animal instincts, her emotions, her body told her to go on, but her heart and mind told her she must not. 

"You're only doing this because you're hurt, Harry. You're not doing it because you love me; you just want to get back at Cho. I'm going out with Ron, Harry. We can't."

Filled with shame, Hermione covered her body with her hands, and quickly pulled on her shirt.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away - I know it's no excuse-" said Harry. 

"Doesn't matter," said Hermione, and fled. 


End file.
